


Taking the Yoke

by tipitiwitchet (no_one_in_particular)



Category: Salem's Lot (TV 1979)
Genre: Other, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 02:32:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/no_one_in_particular/pseuds/tipitiwitchet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Salem's Lot the movie - after it's over, and Ben's killed Susan the vampire, and Ben and Mark are running - what might happen, how will Ben deal with/save Mark when vampires grab Mark and use him for bait to get Ben to come to them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking the Yoke

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kassidy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kassidy/gifts).



> My gift for my bestie, kassidy. Because it's xmas, here's something bleak and cruel for you, babes. I hope you like it. Love you muchly.

Without discussing it, they turned around and headed back through Mexico toward California when they left Guatemala. Ben couldn’t stand the thought of going further into South America, pulled further and further from everything he knew. He envisioned standing finally at the continent’s southernmost tip under a cold blue moon with his only choice being the endless sea before him or the vampires behind him. Going back to the States gave him a sense of control, and he desperately needed to feel he had some control, even though he knew it was only an illusion. They were still coming after them.

Mark didn’t argue, which was as good as agreement. He was looking at Ben as though he were fragile since Guatemala, since Susan. Ben saw him out of the corner of his eye while he drove, staring at him from the passenger seat with that line of worry between his eyes. He kept telling the boy that he was fine. He said it because it was true. He had mourned Susan long before he staked her. After the shock of it had worn off, he’d felt only relief that he had kept Mark and himself from harm.

He should have been feeling more and more relieved. They crossed the border into California, and the bottles of holy water remained dark. Maybe their abrupt change of direction had bought them some time or maybe Susan had been leading the charge and now they had to regroup, but Ben couldn’t relax. Even if there was no indication of vampires nearby, he could feel something bearing down on them, getting closer even as they drove up the sunny California coast.

They stopped in a small town to rest. They found a cheap hotel in amongst all the tourist traps, not exactly clean but not filthy either, paint peeling, but roof patched. Ben left Mark checking for roaches in their small bathroom and ventured out to a small market to pick up some food. 

The market didn’t have the greatest selection, but there was plenty of fresh produce in bins outside. Ben lingered over flats of sun-warmed strawberries, trying to pick the best of the fruit. He didn’t hear the woman approach until she was standing beside him.

“Hello, Mr. Mears,” she said in an indecipherable accent. Perhaps she was English, but it was hard to say. She was older and well dressed. Her beige bag and shoes matched and of good quality. She was genteel in appearance, and the air of malice she projected made Ben want to gag.

He tightened his grip on his shopping basket and glanced around. There were a mother with two small children, both boys, and an elderly couple shopping the bins on the other side of the door. The shopkeeper stood in the doorway, pointing out the spinach to the young mother. 

The woman waited, a small smile on her lips.

“Who are you, and what do you want?” He tried to keep his voice low, but it was a struggle. 

The woman’s smile grew and, for a moment, Ben had the disturbing feeling that he was looking at Stryker in drag. “My name is Miss Sala, and I want to talk to you.”

Ben put the basket down. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

He turned to leave, but heard the woman behind him. “We have the boy.”

He turned back to her. He quickly glanced at the others, but they weren’t looking at them. She had spoken very softly. 

He stared at her for a moment. “Why should I believe you? Vampires don’t come out in the day.” He gestured vaguely around.

She sighed and shook her head. “Mr. Mears, it is exceedingly easy to find humans who will perform whatever tasks we need doing during the day.” She looked over at the children clinging to their mother’s skirt. “This town has been especially accommodating. It’s almost a shame that they’ll all die.”

Ben watched as the young mother noticed Miss Sala looking at her children. She smiled at Miss Sala and looked down at them, pride shining in her eyes.

He cleared his throat to get her attention away from the boys and back on him. “What do you want?”

Miss Sala reached into the purse hanging from her arm and produced a card, which she held out to Ben. “As I said, I want to talk. You will come to this address after dark. You will come alone and unarmed, and we will discuss your young friend.”

Ben took the card. “Just tell me what you want. I’ll give you whatever you want for Mark.”

Miss Sala picked up a strawberry. “Tonight, Mr. Mears. We will talk tonight.” She bit into the strawberry and walked to a nearby car, waving to the shopkeeper as she went. 

Ben ran back to the hotel, where he found the door hanging open and the room torn apart. Mark was gone, just as she’d said. He closed the door and sat on the bed until the sun went down.

He had to stop at a gas station to get directions. The attendant knew the address right away. Oh, that was Miss Sala’s place. She hadn’t lived there long, but she sure did seem like a nice lady. 

The address was on the edge of town. Ben found it easily enough. The house was large and dilapidated, paint peeling and shutters askew. What was truly wrong with it couldn’t be fixed with paint and nails though. It felt just like the Marsten house.

The door opened as Ben approached. Miss Sala stood in the doorway wearing a plastic apron over her conservative skirt and sweater set. 

“Mr. Mears, you’re right on time. Please, come in.” She removed her apron as she led him into a room with dim lighting and peeling wallpaper. “I’ve made tea.”

She gestured for Ben to sit at the small table at the center of the room and brought over a tea tray from the sideboard against the wall. “I’ve been in my darkroom. Photography is a hobby of mine.” She handed Ben a picture from the tray. “Do tell me what you think.”

The picture was of Mark. His hands were tied to an iron hook over his head and he’d been beaten. He was staring into the camera. Despite the black eye and swelling lip, he looked furious. Ben almost smiled.

He crumpled the picture and threw it on the table. “I’m here, just like you wanted. Let him go.”

Miss Sala set a cup of tea in front of him. “I keep telling you, Mr. Mears, that I want to talk to you. Do stop trying to skip ahead.”

Ben shoved the cup away, sloshing tea over the edge into the saucer. “So talk. Tell me what you want already.”

Miss Sala sat down opposite Ben and sipped her tea. “It isn’t what I want. It’s what the Master wants.”

Ben leaned forward against the table, spilling more tea. “I killed the Master.”

Miss Sala smiled. “You killed one. They are rare, of course. You’ve seen how quickly vampires can decimate a town. Haven’t you wondered why they haven’t taken over?”

Ben just stared at her without answering. She shrugged. “They don’t last, die in droves actually. Only a very few live long enough to become a Master.” She looked into her cup for a moment before turning hard eyes up to Ben. “You killed a creature that lived for millennia. You have no idea the crime you committed.”

Ben barked out a laugh. “You expect me to feel remorse? Lady, that isn’t going to happen. I just want Mark. If it costs my life, I’ll make that deal.”

Miss Sala looked at him for a moment. “Another bargained for his life, a priest. Is he so special or is he merely adept at aligning himself with allies who will protect him?”

Ben shook his head. “Does it matter to you? Do you really want to know what kind of person he is or do you just want me?”

Miss Sala set her tea down on the table. “No, I suppose the boy doesn’t matter. As to wanting you, do you know what you’re offering? It’s not your death, Mr. Mears. That’s easy enough to accomplish and requires no conversation between us. That master wants something more.”

“What’s that?” Ben was tired. He could see the end. It would be a good end if he saved Mark.

Miss Sala reached over the table and laid her hand on his arm. “You will take my place. The Master wants your service. In return, the boy will be allowed to leave.”

Ben tried to pull his arm away, but Miss Sala’s grip was like iron. “You can’t be serious.”

Miss Sala tightened her fingers. “Decide now, Mr. Mears. Serve the Master as I do or watch the boy die before you become just another vampire.” She leaned closer. “Or maybe you’ll be turned first, so you can kill him.”

Ben stopped struggling against her grip and slumped in the chair. “Fine, I agree, but I have to see Mark leave. I have to know that he’s safe.”

Miss Sala let go of his arm and gestured toward the door as she rose out of her seat. “Certainly. Let’s go see him now.”

Ben followed as she led him out the back door of the house to an outbuilding that might have been a gardening shed. He saw eyes all around them in the dark as they walked.

Mark looked up when they came in. The swelling and bruising had gotten worse since his picture had been taken. His arms flopped down when Miss Sala untied him and he slid down the wall, landing on his backside with a grunt.

Ben went to Mark and rubbed at his shoulders and upper arms to restore the feeling. He shushed him before he could speak. “You have to go now.” He fished the keys to their old jeep out of his pocket and pressed them into Mark’s hand. “It’s out front. Don’t stop driving until you have to.”

Mark stared at the keys in his hand. “I can’t leave you here.”

Ben ran a hand through Mark’s sweaty hair and lifted his head. He was worried that he might have a concussion, but his pupils were equal and he seemed aware. “Please, Mark.” He laid his hands on either side of Mark’s face. “Please, just go. It’s the only way.”

Mark must have read the truth of it in Ben’s eyes because he got up and went to the door. He looked back at Ben with tears in his eyes and at Miss Sala with anger and promise and then left. Ben went to the door and watched him run into the night and stayed there until he heard the noisy jeep start up and drive away. 

He sighed and turned to Miss Sala. “So now what?”

Miss Sala didn’t answer. She just walked past him and back to the house, apparently just expecting that Ben would follow. This time she didn’t go into the house, but to a pair of doors leading down to a basement. She gestured for him to enter.

He opened one of the doors and paused. “What’s going to happen to you? If I’m taking your place then what’s going to happen to you?”

She smiled bitterly. “Concern for me? Please, don’t bother.” She nodded toward the basement. “The Master is waiting.”

Ben turned away from her and walked down the stairs into a room dimly lit by a lantern in the corner. The walls were lined with empty shelves, and floor was dirt. In the middle of the room was a coffin.

Ben heard the doors close behind him as the lid of the coffin opened. The Master crawled out of the coffin. She looked much like the one Ben had killed, only scraps of long white hair hung over her bat-like face and the remnants of breasts swung under her shapeless garment.

His nerve broke and he ran for the doors, but they’d been locked from the outside. He pounded on the door, but his foot slipped and he fell hard on the stairs as the Master caught up with him and closed her long inhuman fingers around his throat. He had a moment, just before her mouth closed over his, to think that he should have kept going south, should have kept going right into the sea.

*******

Mark drove for hours. Dawn was becoming morning before he stopped at a motel to finally rest. He paid for a room with the emergency money in the glove compartment, ignoring the way the clerk looked at his battered face and torn clothes. He just wanted to sleep and try not to think about how he had left Ben behind.

When he awoke, the room was mostly dark, and Ben was sitting in a chair by his bed. He sat up and shook his head, thinking he must be dreaming. Ben smiled and moved over to the bed to sit beside him. 

“You got away?” He reached out and touched Ben’s shoulder, still finding it hard to believe that he was there. “How did you get away?”

Ben pulled him into a hug. “They let me go. I had to find you.”

Mark shook his head against Ben’s shoulder. “I don’t understand. They let you go?”

Ben pushed him away and pressed him into the bed, taking the pillow from behind his head. “I have to give everything to the Master. “ He kissed Mark’s forehead. “And you’re everything I have left.”

Mark started to say, “What are you talking about?” but only got as far as “Wha—,” before Ben put the pillow over his face. He struggled, but Ben was immovable. It didn’t take long before everything went black.

*******

Ben carried the boy around the house. He was still unconscious, but Ben had tied his ankles and his wrists to be safe. He felt the vampires around him in the dark. They wanted the boy. He looked into the darkness and held Mark closer and felt them all turn away to go feed elsewhere.

He walked into the basement and sat down on the dirt floor to wait. The Master wasn’t done with Sala yet. Bits of her were scattered about, gobbets of meat and bits of bone, the tattered remains of a beige sweater set. The Master was squatting in the corner, gnawing on what looked like a femur.

Ben pulled Mark into his lap and stroked his hair. He waited for the Master to be done so he could give her his gift.


End file.
